


Error 404. Human Breakdown.

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not A Lot Of Plot, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6024658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, his impossible, improbable, wonderful girl needs time to be human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Error 404. Human Breakdown.

"Get those eyes under control Oswald"

He surveyed the woman in front of him from under his attack eyebrows. She was holding a mug of lukewarm tea close to her chest, her knuckles white against the TARDIS blue stripes, and her eyes were leaking. 

"Clara, I mean it. Stop it. You're malfunctioning again."

He surveyed her critically. She didn't look like Clara. She didn't look like _his_ Clara. She'd lost weight, probably. And her hair was doing a different thing, maybe. Was it? 

Come on Doctor. 

Had he done it? He thought back over their latest adventure. They'd argued but they always argued. He didn't like being wrong, and neither did she. She'd slapped him once and shouted at him a few times, but it was because she knew that he needed it. It couldn't have been him that had upset her. She'd been normal Clara for ages, she hadn't cried for weeks, months, not in a long time. He had only seen her like this once, but that was in a dream state- straight after PE had died. That couldn't be it, could it? She'd done all her crying over him, and this wasn't like her usual five minutes of grief. That was a quiet thing she did alone, not like this. She didn't ever cry where there were witnesses, even he knew that. 

She'd sunk to her knees now, the tea flying out of the mug and pooling around the control panel; the mug shattering into a million pieces that even the sonic couldn't fix. She was staring after her mug, as though she couldn't believe that she had dropped it, that her little hands had caused it to be irreparably damaged.

He opened his mouth to scold her, like he always did, with a glint in his eye so she knew he didn't mean it but was rendered speechless by the sight in front of him. And it was a sight. 

She was curled into a ball, like a non-prickly hedgehog, trembling and sobbing and leaking water. Nails digging into her sides, sobs echoing through the control room.

He felt anger course through his veins, reaching every extremity. Why was she like this? Who or what had done this to her? To his Clara?

Think Doctor, think. Diagnose your patient.

They'd been on a new planet and she'd run and fought hard, lying seamlessly all the while. She'd been captured, they both had, but that was a regular occurrence. They'd only been there for a week, if that. It couldn't be that, could it? His Clara was made of stronger stuff than that, wasn't she? She was the impossible girl after all. The creatures there were known for projecting psychic images into the minds of others; surely that wouldn't have affected Clara? 

Shit. 

Stupid Doctor. 

"Clara... I..." He faltered, not quite being able to find the right words to make all of this go away.

She looked up and looked right through him, her eyes wide, pupils dilated. 

"I can’t..." she choked out, tears once again overwhelming her.

His fingers flew across the buttons on the control panel, setting his TARDIS to scan her. He heard his Eleventh self in his head: "Hug her, you old idiot. Just hug her"

He batted that aside. They didn't hug. _He_ didn't hug. He'd give her the odd thumbs up but that was it. She was his companion, his friend, his partner.

He looked at the scanner. It simply said **"Error 404. Human breakdown"**

He tiptoed towards her. Sinking to his knees a couple of feet away from her, wringing his hands awkwardly. 

"Clara, Clara can you look at me" he tried to make his voice into something that could vaguely resemble sympathy.

"They.... mum.... again...I..." she sobbed, flattening herself into the floor, refusing to lift her head for him.

It was his fault, again. Stupid, stupid Doctor. He knew the dangers of this planet, but he didn't think. He had a duty of care for Clara, but so frequently seemed to put her in danger, how could he be so reckless?

She'd rolled onto her side, her face bright red and stained with tears. Her knees were curled tight to her chest and her hands clenched into fists.

He allowed himself to smile at that one. His Clara, ready for a fight.

He shuffled closer, somewhat reluctantly extending a hand to Clara, awkwardly patting her on the head. 

“Clara, humans are only 70% water so you may wish to stop your eyes from leaking”. He tried to imitate the ‘teacher voice’ he had heard Clara use so many times.

She sobbed harder, taking ragged breaths. “Mum…..Danny….Dad…….Gran…..You… My fault…..” were the words he caught, the rest obscured by tears and shaking. 

She shuffled closer to him, eventually collapsing with her upper body on top of his knees, face buried under her hair, hands gripping tightly around the hem of his jacket. He didn't know what to do, so he rested his left hand on her head, and began rubbing her back with his right. They didn't do physical contact, this was a new experience for both of them. 

They stayed there for a while. He monitored her pulse as it began to slow, and felt her trembling slow then stop. She was still crying though, and was using his long holey jumper as a handkerchief by the looks of it. 

“There was Danny and there was children. And that's not going to happen. And it's all my fault, it's all my fault” she moaned, her voice muffled by his legs. 

“Oh Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara”

“They made me watch as Mum died, and Dad and Gran blamed me. And you died, again and again. Doctor make it stop” she practically whispered. 

He gathered her closer, adjusting himself so he could hold her properly, throwing his inhibitions out of the window. He let her rest her head against his hearts, hoping their rhythm could soothe her, and wrapped his long arms around her, holding her tight as she sobbed. 

He wanted to open a psychic link with her, to project new emotions into her broken state but he knew she wouldn't thank him for it. She always got angry if he used the psychic link without her explicit permission. Plus she was in no fit state to shut the doors in her mind, and it was not his place to snoop on the images that they had planted there. 

But he didn't do it. He let her be human. She didn't have to be the impossible girl, she didn't have to do "Lancashire sass", she didn't have to be the saver of worlds or the girl who would lay down her life for the sake of others. She’d let him in, in time, if she wanted to. 

She could just be Clara, fragile, human, wonderful Clara. He leant his chin on the top of her head, feeling her relax in his arms as her sobbing came to an end. He went to let go of her, to move away but she locked her arms around his middle and held him tight.

“Not yet…” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I need to know you aren't dead. I need to know it wasn't my fault”

He frowned, then relaxed, trying to tame his attack eyebrows. 

“Clara, look at me. I'm right here. Definitely not dead. Or I wasn't, 5 minutes ago. Maybe I should check. That might be a good idea. Anyway. Not dead. Also not your fault.” 

Smooth Doctor, really smooth.

"You know, creepy aliens. Totally not you, 100%. The memories will stop circulating in around 8 hours. You'll be okay" He twisted his face into a sort of grin and tried to give her a thumbs up.

He knew at least some of his words had got through to her when she rolled her eyes the tiniest bit. Eyes that were no longer leaking. 

He mentally gave himself a thumbs up, he'd knew he’d royally screwed up but was glad that he hadn't completely broken his impossible girl.

He looked back down at her. She'd worn herself out, even he could see that. 

"Clara, may I?" He enquired, gesturing his intention to pick her up.

She nodded weakly, and he scooped her into his arms. 

He snorted slightly. Apparently this body wasn't as good as lifting as his old one.

"Shut up." She moaned, to which he couldn't help chuckling again. 

He took her up the stairs to the upper level of the control room, depositing her as gently as he could in her favourite leather reading chair. The TARDIS had already thought to provide blankets so he wrapped one around her shoulders and laid the other carefully over her knees.

He kissed his hand and tapped her on the head, he vaguely remembered doing that before.

She was drowsy so he didn't talk, instead picking up his guitar and beginning to tune it whilst perched on the steps. 

“Are you guarding me?” she said, a ghost of a weak smile on her face.

“Clara, the memories you were given will come crawling out of your little head over the next 7 hours. I'm just here to make sure your human brain can cope" He said, surveying her over the head of his guitar. 

"Plus I'm doing what you always tell me to do, I'm being a Doctor" He puffed his chest up at this, feeling rather pleased with himself. 

She shook her head and wrapped the blankets further around herself.

He continued playing, he'd written this song for her, but hadn’t told her. He looked up to see the corners of her mouth curl. She knew it was for her, she always knew.

His Clara.

**Author's Note:**

> At some point I'll write something less angsty.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
